Clash of the Uniforms

As you should by now, I'm a closeted, bisexual male. More importantly though, I'm a firefighter, and would go to any lengths to hide my sexuality. Being in this profession with my choice of lifestyle has presented its own set of problems, but it has also given me unique opportunities. This is my attempt at sharing them with you. Note- The backstory is completely, 100% true, and in the spirit of discretion, some events have been omitted and/or edited to contain discretion and names (and rank) have obviously been changed.

Now, from the beginning (of this story anyway). I have a wide network of friends, some since childhood and others I've found along the way. I'm still only in my upper 20s, so plenty young, and pretty full of cum. This network of friends consists of highway patrolmen, fellow firefighters, law enforcement officers, ems workers, and soldiers (from every branch). This particular story begins with a sad event. One of my best friends from childhood, Brent, had gone off to fight America's war in Iraq, leaving the rest of us to carry on in hopes of celebrating his return. However, that's not what happened. I received a call one late night from his mother informing me that he had been killed by a roadside bomb. Further instructions involved asking me to give a eulogy at his funeral (since I was his best friend and all) along with other soldiers from his unit. He died a true heroes' death, saving three men and a woman from meeting their demise. Just like the guy we always knew he was, there to help in the time of need and never afraid of sacrificing.

The days leading up to his funeral were long and hard. I had obtained permission from my Battalion Chief to wear my city provided Class A uniform and thus needed to get it prepared to be properly worn. If there were soldiers there in their Class A's with medals and brass hanging, I wanted to look as sharp as I could be. That's what Brent would have wanted. Here's where the story gets interesting. Brent and I were good friends, in fact, we were fuck buddies. He married young and we found out we had another mutual interest soon after. We were able to play off spending time together because we were such good friends, but we had sex as much as possible. I would say I never had any intention of dating guys, but if I did, he'd be the one. I remember the night before he left. Hadn't expected to get a call from him, but I did. It began with a text that read 'Hey man, where are you?' Before I could reply he called and repeated what he texted. 'I just got here, getting ready for another day of work.' I replied.

'You wouldn't happen to have some free time to spend with me tonight would you?' He asked. I had almost forgotten he was leaving the next morning. 'Absolutely man, where do you want to go?' was my response. He informed me that he had a room not far from where we lived and wanted me to come there. I knew what he wanted and quickly readied my things to go there. 'Room 325' he texted just as I pulled up. When I got to the room, he had the door lock inside out so all I had to do was push the door open. I shut it and locked it right behind me. He was in the bathroom, I could hear the shower running. 'It's not very smart to leave a door open while you're in the bathroom' I said rather loudly. He shut the water off (the door was halfway open, but not enough where I could see him at this point. 'I was pretty sure no one would come in, and if they did, they could either join or I'd rough 'em up' he smirked. He was putting shaving crème on his face and he kicked the door open wide.

While doing this I could see that he was fully nude (as I suspected) with water still running down his body. He was about the same height as me (6'3') but had a much fully complex than I. His abs were defined, didn't look like there was much fat on him until you got down to his cock. Watching him lather himself with the crème you could see every muscle in his arms working. Muscles I never even though of being there (or at least visible). He didn't have a towel wrapped around him so those muscled cheeks hung there in the light, ready to be licked and spread open. He was the perfect specimen of a man, and his cock was semi-hard which would probably be around 6 inches. It was a little better than 9 fully erect...and thick.

Pulling myself away from this magnificent site before me, I scanned the room and realized I hadn't dropped my bag yet. It was a moderate sized room: one king sized bed, a night dresser, a loveseat with a lamp beside it in the corner. The tv was rather small, but I knew we definitely wouldn't be watching anything on it anytime soon. He had his bags sitting in the other corner, which I thought was kind of odd, but figured it best not to ask. He didn't talk about personal stuff that much. And when he did, I mostly listened unless he asked for input (family issues). I placed my fire department bag in the chair and started pulling my shoes off. After the long silence he broke with a 'Aren't you going to shower bud? I want to see you naked...it has been a while.' I had just showered actually, but wasn't in the mood to turn down such an invitation. I started stripping and stepped into the bathroom light. Now, I stood at 6'2', 190 pounds. I was muscled but had struggled with fat levels (used to weigh 300 pounds) so I didn't look as impressive as him. And I was strongly body conscious. My hair was almost shaven, no facial hair, my ass, legs, and abdomen were hairy. But I did regularly shave my cock and balls. It wasn't as big as his either, just at 7' uncut. But I had no complaints.

'God, you're hot.' He said. 'Hard to believe I'm going to miss seeing that for a year'. I blushed and brushed it off with a 'Yea, I'm not as hot as you man, and you know that.' Wiping the rest of the crème off his face he turned around and pulled me close to him. 'Don't say that, you're hot to me' and lunged forward for a passionate kiss. It wasn't the type of kiss you'd expect from two guys just making out. This was a 'One last night with my love' sort of kiss, something I had come to familiarize myself with from him. I reached around his back, running my hands up and down his muscled upper and lower back, moving down to squeeze his ass. He did the same for me, only he pulled my cheeks apart and gently grazed a finger over my hole. 'Mmmmm' I said. 'Careful or you're going to have your hands full'. He let go and made his way to my cock. 'Looks like I already do my friend' he said with a grin. I broke away and turned towards the shower and turned the water on. 'Are you planning on joining me, or am I going to shower by myself.' I asked. He didn't respond right away, just staring at me from head to toe. So I got in, letting the water run down my entire body. My cock was rock hard and I wanted him to do was to get in so we could make out under the shower head.

After a few minutes, and him stroking his monster cock, he got in and closed the curtain. 'It's not like anyone can see, and the floor is already wet soldier.' I chaffed. Still, he didn't say anything but instead, pulled me back into that passionate kiss. As our lips and tongues explored each other, so did our hands. I wanted this guy, and I wanted him right then. After braking away I grabbed the hotel bar of soap and he took it out of my hands. I knew he wanted to wash me, or was hoping rather. Just something about having someone else run their hand up and down your body with a bar of soap. He knelt down and started with my feet. Lathered up his hands and run his hands up the back of my calves to my thighs. It felt great, like a standing up massage. After stroking my legs a few times he looked up at me, smiled, and took the head of my cock in his mouth. I wanted to put my hand on the back of his head but I figured we'd go at his pace, and he liked to tease.

He took my shaft all the way down and then came up. I probably could have cummed right then and there, but I didn't, I wanted to savor the moment. He let go and continued to wash me, reaching my abdomen, my chest, and then my arms. He motioned for me to turn around and as I did, he pressed his body up against mine. I could feel his cock in between my cheeks. It wanted to be in there as much as I wanted it to be. We were both breathing heavy. 'Let's move this to the bed, shall we?' I asked. He turned off the water and handed me a towel. We both dried off and headed for the bed. 'Who's first?' he asked. 'You tell me, you're the one that invited me here' I replied. He pushed me down on the bed and took my cock in his mouth again. He was as good at sucking cock as I was. He licked and sucked my balls, shaft, and my hole. As he focused more on my hole I knew he was preparing it to be fucked. And even though I had taken his massive missile a few times, I still needed to be prepared to have it. I raised my legs up to signal I was ready, and he placed his hands at the back of my calves to help. He placed the head of his cock in the hole and I let out a heavy breathe. 'Are you ok?' he asked. 'Yes, just fuck me Brent.' I replied. And with one thrust he was in me. It hurt like hell but I wouldn't dare say anything about it, knowing that the pain would give way to pleasure soon enough.

At first it was slow; I knew he was letting me get used to it, even without me having to say anything. But as time went on he started picking up steam with his strokes. 'Oh my god man' 'I forgot how great your ass was to fuck' he said. 'Fuck me Brent; just fuck me like it's your last one.' I told him. He got really fast, he was really hammering it. I loved when he moaned, and he was doing a lot of it. I could feel it starting to swell, and knew he was getting close. 'Fuck yes' he said as I heard his balls slapping my ass. Within a few minutes he was ready, 'I'm going to cum baby' he said in immense pleasure. And with that, he spurted his cum all in me. It felt like he hadn't done that in a while. On his last thrust he let out of 'Fucking A' and I felt the last pump. He collapsed on top of me, both of us working up a sweat. He kissed my chest and worked his way up to my mouth. Our tongues, once again, exploring each other.

Just as we were getting into that routine, his cell phone rung. I could tell he didn't want to answer, but I insisted that he should, and he did. He answered pretty angrily and after exchanging a few words he hung up. 'I'm sorry man, but I'm going to go back home now.' He said a little saddened. 'I understand, go be with whomever that is, but I hope it's your wife.' I reassured him. I got off the bed and headed to the bathroom to clean myself up. I quickly got dressed and put my shoulder strap on my bag to walk out the door. I stuck my hand out to shake his hand and wish him well on his journey, but instead, he brushed my hand away and pulled me in for another kiss. After breaking the embrace yet again, he said 'Jake'...'I just want you to know that if I don't make it back..' I broke him off. 'We shouldn't think like that man, just think about getting through it and I'll see you when you get back.' But he was persistent in telling me what he wanted to say. 'Will you listen to what I have to say?' he pleaded. So I did. 'If I don't make it back, I want you to know that there are two people I have loved throughout my life.' I wasn't sure where this was going. 'The first one is my wife, even though we've had out struggles. But the second one is you.' He said. 'I know man, I love you like a brother too.' I blurted out. 'No, no, not like a brother thing. I mean, I actually love you, as much, if not more than I love Shelly.' And I was shocked.

Even though we had talked about what we were doing and the impacts it had on both of our lives, we had never discussed feelings. And I had never admitted to myself that I loved another guy, and expected him to be the last one to do so. 'Well, I guess I have to say I love you too man. But you've still got to make it back.' I responded. We hugged and kissed one last time and said our goodbyes. As I walked to my truck I couldn't help the feeling that somewhere, someone thought that'd be the last time I'd see him. But it couldn't be could it? Life couldn't be so cruel to a guy like me. I couldn't sleep that night, but I never texted Brent or even called. Later that morning on my way to the station I got a text from him that read 'I love you, I told Shelly about us and everything. I hope I see you again.' I didn't know what to reply so I didn't. I couldn't get it off my mind all day, and all of my coworkers knew I seemed a little distracted. I was the life of the station, the party guy, but that day, all I could do was think about the night before and wondering. What did Shelly think about this? Would I ever see Brent again? What would I do if she told someone and they told someone? I realize this all sounds trivial now, but that's what I had on my mind.

**I hope to go forward with this story while feeling in the past. Your thoughts are appreciated.